


we'll be glowing in the dark

by justaboat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justaboat/pseuds/justaboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au; louis works at a movie rental shop and harry wants to rent a movie. (girl!harry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll be glowing in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ithacas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithacas/gifts).



> happy birthday leighanne!!!!! this is for you because you're always yelling about genderswap so here we are. i love you so so so much and i hope it's an amazing day for you darling. 
> 
> big thanks to amber and greta for being wonderful as always. i love you both very much a lot.

Louis is late. So, so late and he knows Niall won’t let him hear the end of it as he leaves his flat, closing the door behind himself loudly as he starts off down the street. It’s cold and raining as he pulls his hood up over his head, not having time to get a jacket and regretting it as he feels the cold wind moving against him with each step he takes. Though he wouldn’t have been so late if Zayn had done his fucking dishes like he’d said he would, instead leaving them abandoned in the kitchen sink when Perrie had come over and going to his room without another word.

Not too mention he’s got an exam in two days he’s hardly studied for, already beginning to feel the ache from lack of sleep as he shivers under his sweater. He’s fucked, basically.

“You’re late,” Niall says immediately as he opens the door, roughly fifteen minutes behind for his shift as Louis makes a point of not looking toward him.

“I know,” he snaps, opening the door into the back room as he blows into his hands, trying to warm them up as he closes his eyes, just for a moment.

When he walks out into the storefront there’s no one else to be found except for Niall, who’s sitting on a small stool behind the front desk where he’s hunched over a textbook open in front of him. “Nick left a note for you,” Niall tells him, extending a piece of paper toward him as Louis takes it from his fingers.

‘ _put away the movies on the shelf and if its not busy at 7 you can close up early_ ’ is all it says, hardly legible as Louis snorts.

“Does he really expect us to be busy on a Sunday night?” Louis asks as Niall shrugs, grinning as he looks up from whatever he’s reading.

“We can let the old man dream at least,” Niall says as Louis rolls his eyes, tossing the bit of paper into the trash as he turns to look at the carts at the end of the counter. 

Though it’s not like Louis minds the close shifts on Sunday’s. He prefers them, actually, because he gets the store to himself and spends the time putting away movies and not bothering to do it alphabetically. Not that Nick’s ever noticed, so it’s something he can get away with. 

“Wanna come over tomorrow? Ed and I are gonna watch that new movie that came out, the Iron Man one, or something,” Niall asks after a moment.

Louis glances up from where he’s presently holding a copy of You’ve Got Mail and Beetlejuice as he shakes his head. “Can’t. Got that exam to study for on Wednesday,” Louis says as he watches Niall frown in response.

“Suit yourself. I was gonna buy you pizza but I guess not anymore,” Niall says, getting off his stool as he takes his jacket and bag from beside him, packing up his textbook and laptop.

“This weekend maybe? I know I’ve been neglecting you, I’m truly awful —” Louis says, tugging on Niall’s sleeve and pulling him into a hug. It doesn’t take much for Niall to comply, wrapping his arms easily around Louis’ waist as he mumbles something similar to “you’re a neglectful arse but at least you’re cute” and that’s good enough for Louis as he releases him after a moment. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

Niall looks at him, as if still trying to believe he’s telling the truth or not until he shrugs, putting on his jacket as he makes his way toward the front door. The small bells goes off as he holds it open, one foot out of it already as he glances back toward Louis now, “you’re gonna be alright here by yourself?” he asks.

Louis sets down the movies in his hands as he nods. “I’ll be fine mum, promise,” he replies, laughing when Niall flips him off before leaving, the bell going off once more as it shuts behind him.

And he’s alone. It comes as no surprise, what with working in a small video store in a rundown end of the city so he’s found his methods to cope. First he puts on a movie, one he can’t remember the title of and therefore won’t get too attached to as he doesn’t focus on the voices, instead lets them drown out his thoughts as he goes through the stacks. He pulls up the stool, sorting them into piles on their genre’s — romance, horror, sci fi, children’s, etc. as they fit. 

The job itself is shit and Nick hardly pays them but for some reason Louis can’t bring himself to work anywhere else. Mostly because he’s lazy but also because there’s something about the old, chipped paint on the walls that keeps him coming back. Plus Niall would kill him if he quit so, there’s that.

It’s almost as cold inside as it is out as Louis goes to turn on the heater. But it doesn’t work, much like the scanner for the movies and the safe for the money half the time so it’s no surprise when Louis pulls his sweater tight around his body. Nick’s too cheap to get the heating fixed, instead tells him and Niall to wear more layers. 

He’s halfway through putting away the romantic movies when the door opens. Louis stops, standing on his tip toes to glance over the top of the rack as he catches sight of an oddly familiar head of brown hair, long and slightly messy curls as he blinks. “Can I —” Louis clears his throat, standing up a little straighter as he rubs his hands on his thighs, “help you?”

The girl stops, glancing up toward him as her face brightens immediately. “I thought you were closed,” she says, “I’m um — here to rent a movie?”

Louis laughs, quietly, digging his toes into the front of his shoe, grounding himself. “I figured,” he jokes, watching as she sticks out her tongue childishly in response.

“I can take my business elsewhere —” she starts, taking a step back toward the door as Louis shakes his head.

“No, no don’t do that. The only video store around here is Jerry’s and you don’t want to go there, it’s dreadful. Trust me,” Louis says, watching where she’s got her hand placed on the handle of the door. 

But she doesn’t open it, instead putting her hand back into the pocket of her sweater as she tucks a curl behind her ear. “Alright, fine. Impress me with your movie knowledge.”

So Louis takes her through the store, pointing out random movies in sections as he keeps his hands behind his back, being as professional as possible in every aspect of the word. She listens, nodding and watching him as he rambles on for what feels like far too long for anyone to have to listen to him. Especially when he’s arguing with himself about the merits of violence in Quentin Tarantino films. 

They reach the back of the store, the movie still playing as Louis stops talking, waiting for her to speak as they stand there. 

“Are you in my class? English?” they ask finally, though it hardly has anything to do with the recommendations he’d just given.

“I don’t —” Louis pauses as he nods. “I think so? Though if it’s the lectures on Tuesday and Thursday mornings I hardly ever go.”

“I know,” she says easily, “the only time you’ve gone you sat in the back with your friend and slept on his shoulder.”

That is true. Niall had dragged him there one morning because he was sick of taking notes for him but after the period ended he told Louis he was better off staying off in bed since he was going to sleep through the entire class anyway if he’s present or not. “So what about a movie?” Louis asks, “I mean I did go through each and every section, it’s very time consuming. I’m a very busy man, my time is both precious and valuable.”

“Clearly,” she says, motioning to the empty store. “I’m Harry.”

“Louis,” he replies, “and you should pick a movie before I go back to what I was doing before you came in here,” he threatens. 

Harry smiles then, biting down on the corner of her lower lip as Louis feels a rush of something warm and pleasant run through him. “I want to watch something new. Expand my horizons a bit.”

Louis thinks for a moment, running his fingertip along the edge of a shelf, considering. “Like 500 Days of Summer new?” Harry scrunches her face in response, clearly uninterested. “Alright so nothing like that —” he trails off, taking a step down another aisle as he glances through the shelves.

“How about Pulp Fiction? Always a classic,” he suggests, holding up the movie case.

“After the way you talked about him earlier? I don’t think so,” Harry replies as Louis nods. Fair enough, he thinks.

But he doesn’t say anything, scanning through titles and a collection of movies he vaguely recognizes as Harry walks behind him, her footsteps light and silent. “How about a horror movie? Something a little scary?” he asks.

Immediately he can see Harry tense at the suggestion, pulling her arms closer to her side where they’re in the front pocket of her sweater. “I’ve only ever seen one horror movie,” she admits.

“You’re missing out. There’s a whole world of possibilities,” Louis begins, rounding down onto the horror aisle, “you’ve got romance, a little bit of killing and a lot of suspense, what more do you want?”

Harry wrinkles her nose, though doesn’t say anything as he continues. “You could start the Friday the 13th franchise, which I highly recommend. Or —” he thumbs along a few more cases, “any of the Saw movies, Silence of the Lambs —”

“What’s that one about?” Harry interrupts. 

“It’s um, y’know. About Hannibal,” Louis begins as Harry shakes her head, clearly not following. “Hannibal the Cannibal?”

He takes the case from the shelf, handing it to Harry as she takes her hands out of her pocket, holding it as she reads it over, quietly. “Alright. I’ll watch this one.”

“Are you sure? We’re only touching the surface here, Harry. There’s a whole new world to be exposed for you here,” Louis offers but she shakes her head.

“No, this is fine. I think,” she says, as if trying to convince herself.

“Right, perfect. I’ll just ring you through,” Louis says, walking toward the front desk as he goes to stand behind it. 

The computer is old, taking unnecessarily long to load as he sighs, loudly. Outside it’s still raining, coming down loudly and hitting the window as Harry runs her finger along the summary on the back, following the words as she stares at it, almost apprehensively. 

“Are you sure I’ll like it?” she asks when Louis hands her her receipt. 

He shrugs, offering her a small plastic bag to put it into. “You might not like it, truthfully. My flatmate hated it, couldn’t sleep for three nights after he saw it.”

“Encouraging,” Harry comments dryly. “My flatmates are gone so I thought I’d watch something by myself.”

“Oh God,” Louis says, running a hand over his face.

“Again, encouraging.”

“Maybe something like Toy Story would fit you better,” he says as Harry shakes her head in protest. 

There’s a few curls framing her face now, bringing out the green in her eyes as Louis resists the urge to brush them away as he instead coughs into his hand, briefly. “If I promise to watch this will you come to class on Tuesday?” Harry bargains, leaning against the counter now as she talks.

“Harry, darling. It’s at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Yes, and I’m going to be watching this all by myself so if I make it out alive you should at least take your arse to class,” she says accusingly.

Louis studies her for a minute, arms crossed over his chest. “I vote we come up with a compromise. One that doesn’t include me waking up before ten in the morning.” 

Harry taps a finger on her lips, thinking as Louis looks at her expectantly. He likes the way her lips pout, just a little, more noticeable each time the pad of her finger touches her lips. So he waits, pressing his palm against the top of the counter and feeling the cool wood beneath it as he takes in a deep breath. 

“When do you close?” Harry asks.

He blinks, staring at her. “If we’re busy, nine. If we’re not busy then —” he looks around briefly to the otherwise unoccupied space, “seven.”

Harry’s smiling now, grin full on her lips and eyes bright. “It’s six thirty now…” she trails off, shrugging one shoulder and for a moment Louis catches sight of something on her skin, immediately curious when he realizes it’s a tattoo, though after a moment it’s hidden again underneath her sweater as he clears his throat. 

“Are you suggesting something, Harry?” 

“Merely that,” Louis is following where she’s tracing random lines and images along the wood, “if you aren’t too busy you could, you know. Keep me company. If you’d like, of course.”

And he should say no. He’s got to study and tidy up a bit and a whole other list of things to do but Harry’s giving him a private sort of smile that soon he finds himself saying, “yeah, okay. Just let me um — close up and we can go.”

It’s mildly distracting, having Harry watch him as he goes about locking everything up. He leaves a few movies still unsorted on the cart because fuck it, Nick will actually have to do work in the morning for once. He counts up the till and ties up the few receipts with a rubber band as he leaves them on the desk in the back room. He can only imagine what Niall would say if he were here, most likely mock Louis for closing early to watch a horror movie with some girl he’d only just met. 

The whole store is locked up and the lights turned out, the sign on the door now reading _Sorry, We’re Closed!_ as Louis shuffles outside, shivering as Harry follows behind him. The door closes easily, locking it with the key as he shoves his lanyard back into his pocket as he looks to Harry. 

“Shall we?” he asks, huddled underneath the thin fabric of his jumper as Harry nods.

“I’m just off of Linbrook,” Harry directs, pressing her hand gently to Louis’ elbow for a moment before they start off down the street. 

The rains let up just a bit, so Louis is at least a little bit thankful for that as he follows alongside Harry down the empty street. It’s already dark out, the fall season already changing the leaves as Louis clears his throat.

“How many flatmates do you have?” he asks finally because he doesn’t actually know anything about the girl next to him except for that they have the same english class and she’s got long, curly brown hair.

“Just two,” Harry replies with a shrug. “One I hardly ever see — his name’s Greg, he runs a radio show at the uni, have you heard it? It’s some late night talk show, I think. Plays a lot of top forty music.” Louis shakes his head as Harry laughs, hardly offended. “Didn’t expect you too. Anyway, then there’s Liam. He’s an engineering student so all he basically does is sleep, go to class, then spend any waking minute he can spare in the library.”

“Makes sense,” Louis says, kicking at a damp leaf.

“How about you?” Harry asks, her voice light and seemingly genuinely interested now.

“Just an old friend of mine, Zayn. Though lately it’s been him and his girlfriend, Perrie, who I think I like more than him some days,” Louis jokes as he rubs a hand along the back of his neck. “But it’s good. We get on really well so it’s not like I can complain or anything.”

Harry leads him to a small rundown building, propping open the door and turning one of her key’s in the lock. “I’m just on the second floor,” she says, Louis nodding as he follows her up the two flights of stairs, not complaining at how his feet already ache when he does.

Her apartment is small, but cozy. There’s a small kitchen leading off into a living room, a fishbowl on the table as Louis pauses. “Fish?” he asks as Harry smiles widely.

“Goldilocks and Farrah,” she introduces, her face distorted to look bigger as she peers into the bowl, “meet Louis. He’s a friend, so be nice.”

If she didn’t sound so genuine about the whole introduction Louis would laugh, but she looks so serious, standing there with her chin propped up on her palms that he doesn’t say anything except a polite “hello there,” to the tank as he presses a finger to the glass, briefly. He follows her into the living room as she tosses her jacket onto a chair yelling out a, “make yourself at home!” before disappearing into one of the doors down a little hallway.

So Louis sits on the edge of one of the couch cushions, feeling Goldilocks and Farrah’s gazes from where he sits as he squints his eyes toward them, just a little. In case they get the wrong idea about him, or anything. There’s no sign of Harry as he stands, making his way across the floor and inspecting the bowl once more. The two fish are swimming, though it somehow feels like they’re glaring at him, as if they know something. Louis narrows his eyes. But that’s not possible, to have goldfish judging him because goldfish can’t judge. They can’t do anything except swim around and eat occasionally, that’s it.

“Don’t look at me that way,” Louis snaps, watching them closely. “It’s just a friendly visit. Just friends. Watching a movie. Nothing more.”

Goldilocks is giving him a glare he doesn’t appreciate in the slightest, tapping a fingertip against the glass like he had a few minutes ago as she swims away from the noise quickly. This is certainly not where Louis saw his night going, being properly judged for his intentions by two fish. 

He doesn’t need to justify his life actions to Goldilocks, anyway.

There’s light footsteps coming back as he makes his way back into the living room, glancing toward the top of the small coffee table, catching sight of something as he lifts a small notebook from it. “This your’s?” he asks as Harry walks in again, now wearing a pair of track pants as her eyes widen. 

“Louis — put that down —” she warns, stepping toward him.

“My one and only,” Louis reads on the cover of her leather bound what he assumes to be journal. “This about me then? We’ve only just met. Seems a bit forward there, Hazza.”

“Seems a bit forward to be giving me nicknames, Lou,” Harry argues, leaning down to try and take the notebook from his hands.

But Louis moves just before she can take it, hearing her let out a small noise of unhappiness as she pokes his side and oh fuck, she’s found his weakness as he lets out a bark of laughter in surprise as she takes it easily from his grasp. “Not fair,” he mumbles, leaning back against the couch and pouting noticeably.

Harry doesn’t comment on his pout, instead going into the kitchen as Louis watches her open the fridge, tapping her fingers against the door in an unknown rhythm. “Do you want wine? Beer? Tea? Water? Or —” there’s a pause, followed by some movement before, “or we have some orange juice, I think, unless Liam drank it all —”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Louis says as Harry pauses, her back still facing him as she pulls what looks like to be two beers from the fridge.

She doesn’t take up much space on the couch, sitting close to him as she takes the movie out of the bag Louis had given her, the plastic crinkling in the silence that’s settled between them. Though Louis is far too focused on how warm her leg feels pressed against his own, her long fingers running down the back of the movie case. 

“Okay so, Silence of the Lambs,” Harry says finally after a moment.

Louis nods. “Think you’re gonna make it?” he asks, trying to keep his voice low and serious.

“I think —” Harry trails off, running a hand through her hair, “in order to make it through we need snacks.”

“Well,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see what we got then?”

There isn’t much in the cupboards except a box of animal crackers and a bag of chips with the words _LIAMS CHIPS DON’T EAT!!!!_ written messily across the bag that Harry opens without a second thought, leaning against the counter as she offers them to Louis. He takes a handful, glancing back toward the fish. 

“Do you wanna feed them?” Harry asks, holding up a small jar of what Louis can only assume to be some sort of fish food. 

“Um, sure,” Louis says as he takes it, twisting off the cap, “how much?”

“Two pinches. One for each,” Harry says.

Louis does just that, watching it float near the top of the water as they both pick at the food there as he scrunches his face in response. “Doesn’t it get soggy?” he asks, leaning against the table as he continues watching.

“I don’t think they really mind to be honest,” Harry says. “Do you have any pets?”

Louis laughs, shaking his head at the question. “I had a rabbit once, but it escaped when I decided to play with it outside. I cried for a week straight,” he replies as Harry frowns in response. Her dimples don’t show when she does, Louis thinks as he stares at her for a moment.

“What was its name?”

“Um, Peter Parker,” Louis says, averting his gaze back to the bowl, though he can see Harry smiling from the corner of his eye.

“That’s cute,” she comments, twirling a piece of her hair between her fingers idly, “my sister and I have a cat back home, his name is Winston.”

“At least you didn’t lose him,” Louis says as Harry snorts.

“No, but I don’t brush him regularly so I can’t say I’m upstanding cat owner,” Harry says, now pressing herself lightly into Louis’ side which, okay.

She smells like strawberries and a bit of mint, a little overwhelming as she continues twirling the bit of hair in her fingers, Louis thinks. But he likes it. Having her this close as they stay there for a minute before she finally says, “maybe we should — you know, watch the movie.”

“Yeah,” Louis says, snapping out of the moment, “you know, since you did spend a good amount of money renting it.”

“A mini fortune,” Harry says, playing along as she puts in the movie, then making a point of sitting close to Louis on the couch once more.

The menu starts up as Louis feels Harry go rigid beside him, her arms wrapped firmly around herself as Louis holds the remote in one of his hands. “You ready?” he asks, gently elbowing her side as Harry doesn’t move her eyes from the screen.

“I think so,” she said gently as Louis nods, pressing play.

He’s seen this movie countless times so nothing’s really much of a surprise anymore as Louis nearly sits bored, save for Harry’s reactions from beside him. They’re quiet at first, a muffled sort of strangled noise or a small gasp of breath, jumping slightly from where she’s seated next to him, pressed firmly against his side. Though eventually one of her hands comes to rest on Louis’ arm, gripping it occasionally as her head leans into his shoulder, the contact making his cheeks flush. He’s thankful the lights are off or it would be rather noticeable he thinks, though she’d hardly even realize, her eyes never moving from the screen.

“Oh my God,” Harry whispers finally. The first real, coherent words she’s said within in the first forty-five minutes into the film, her voice muffled by the fabric of Louis’ sweater. “Could you imagine? Eating people?”

Louis presses his lips together, shaking his head. “I imagine it would be something like steak. Medium rare, put on a bit of sauce and you’re all set,” he says, feeling a gentle punch his side as he lets out another surprised sound.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Harry breathes, her eyes widening as she looks at Louis now. “You’re not — y’know...” she trails off, as if waiting for him to somehow finish her sentence.

“I don’t know, I’m afraid,” Louis replies, his eyebrows raising in both amusement and concern now as Harry shakes her head.

“You’re not going to cook me are you? Feed me to your flatmate and his girlfriend?” Harry finally asks, her voice shaking just slightly.

And he can’t help it, seeing the look of genuine worry on her face as he laughs, quietly. “God no, Harry. I would’ve done that long before. I’m too attached to you now, you see,” he explains.

Harry nods, seemingly satisfied as she turns her eyes back to the screen. Louis has the urge to press a kiss to the curls at the top of her head but doesn’t, feeling her hands tighten around his arm once more. They sit like that for the rest of the film, neither of them making any sort of effort to move once the credits start rolling. Louis waits for Harry to say something from where she’s still got her face pressed into his shoulder and for a moment he worries that she might be crying or something, until — “is it over?”

“Yeah babe,” Louis says, his voice slow and tired, “it’s over.”

“That —” Harry pauses, taking in a deep breath, “was truly awful.”

She’s being completely serious, still trembling slightly and he can hear the sound of cars driving past outside the window on the street below. It’s dark, the TV turned off and Louis’ eyes feeling tired and heavy as he sinks back further into the couch. “I should go,” he says, not even sure if Harry’s awake to hear him or not.

Harry shakes her head. “You can’t go after making me watch that,” she says simply, her voice hushed. It seems to fit the darkness they’re sitting in, somehow.

“Where did this aversion to horror movies come from?” Louis asks, turning his head. Harry’s so close, he soon realizes, her breath warm against his cheek and tickling his neck as she sighs.

He can make out her frown, pressing her lips together briefly before actually speaking. “Well,” she says, picking at a thread on the sleeve of his sweater, “when I was younger, I watched a horror movie all by myself.”

“Which one?” Louis asks.

“The Exorcist,” Harry replies, shuddering lightly at the memory.

Louis scoffs, feeling her hit his arm lightly when he does. “That wasn’t even that scary Harry, Jesus,” he says.

“It’s scary when you’re seven!” she protests, her voice a little louder as she presses a finger into his side once more.

“Not fair —” Louis says quickly, taking her hand in his own as she doesn’t make any more attempts at poking his side. Instead she keeps it in his own, intertwining their fingers after a moment. Louis isn’t sure he’s breathing.

“Don’t go,” Harry urges, “stay for a few more minutes.”

And he can’t argue with that. Ten minutes, he tells himself as his eyes slowly close, Harry already asleep beside him, ten minutes then he’ll go.

—

He wakes up to someone coughing awkwardly above him. Louis blinks awake, his eyes opening slowly as he finds an unfamiliar figure towering over him as he stops. He’s not in his flat, and that isn’t Zayn before him and Harry’s still leaning into his shoulder, fast asleep.

“Erm. Hi,” Louis says, forcing a small smile.

“Hi. Who the hell are you?”

“Louis. You?”

“I’m not telling you my name. What are you doing here?” they demand.

“Shut up Liam,” comes Harry’s voice from somewhere in Louis’ shoulder, “this is Louis. Louis, this is Liam. Introductions finished.”

“Right, well. Good to know you’re bringing random strangers back to our flat when we’re not around,” Liam comments, making his way back into the kitchen as Louis winces at the bright lights. There’s the smell of food and coffee and oh God, he needs coffee. He needed a coffee five minutes ago, is more like it.

“He’s not a random stranger. He’s in my english class. Also helped me pick out a movie to rent last night,” Harry says as she sits up slowly, giving Louis a small smile as she squeezes at his wrist briefly. “Do you want breakfast?” 

Louis shakes his head as he checks his phone from in his pockets, soon remembering that he hadn’t even bothered to tell Zayn he was going out after work. And as he predicted there’s a string of text messages ‘ _r u alive_ ’ ‘ _where the fuk r u pez and i are freaking out_ ’ ‘ _omg LOUIS_ ’ he reads as he looks back to Harry. “It’s a lovely offer but — I think Zayn’s going to have a panic attack if he wakes up and I’m not there,” he explains, though Harry’s still frowning.

“Suit yourself. But Liam makes the best pancakes,” Harry says, walking into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around the other boy’s waist. 

“Nice meeting you, Louis,” Liam tells him. But he’s still not smiling, Louis observes.

“You too,” Louis says, running a hand through his hair as he makes his way toward the door.

Harry soon joins his side, leaving Liam alone in the kitchen as she opens the door. They stand there for a moment, staring at one another until she leans in, pressing her lips to his cheek briefly.

“I’ll um, see you when I return the movie?” she asks.

“Thursday, or else you’re going to getting late charges,” Louis teases with a wink. He doesn’t say anything else, taking out a step out the door and it’s not until he hears Harry saying something loudly about blueberries does he realize that he doesn’t have her phone number, or even her last name, nothing. But instead of knocking on the door he makes his way downstairs and out the door and toward his own flat where he hopes and prays Zayn hasn’t called the cops or anything equally as dramatic as he practically races home.

—

Louis doesn’t see Harry for two weeks. He would, possibly, if he went to his English class but every Tuesday and Thursday morning when his alarm goes off at seven he finds himself burrowing deeper underneath his covers and wishing death upon himself as he falls back asleep, which is probably why that hasn’t happened. He also wasn’t working when Harry apparently returned her movie, though according to Niall she was ‘very hot’ and ‘asked about him twice’ which he said Louis should take as a good thing, if anything.

But aside from that there’s no sign of her. 

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe I made her up,” Louis says one evening when him and Niall are watching football on TV.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Niall says through a mouthful of crisps, “but she does go to class every week so I can assure you she is very real.”

“Stop hitting on her,” Louis snaps moodily.

“You could come to class once in a while you know,” Niall responds.

“I told you, I’ve tried. I just can’t function before ten in the morning,” Louis says, taking the bag of crisps as he ignores Niall’s protests when he does. “Besides. It would be awkward now anyway.”

Niall looks at him, brows furrowed. “Why the hell would it be awkward?”

“I don’t know,” Louis mutters quickly, “what do I say? ‘Hey Harry, long time no see since we fell asleep on your couch’?”

“Well if you said shit like that then yeah, it’ll be awkward you idiot,” Niall says as he takes the bag of crisps back.

“Shut up,” Louis says, kicking at his shin as Niall moves further away from him on the couch. “Maybe she’s in love with Liam, anyway. He was kind of hot.”

“She kissed you on the cheek, Lou,” Niall reminds him.

“So? Could’ve been a friendly kiss.”

“No such thing after she’d spent the night drooling into your shoulder. She wanted you, mate,” Niall says, his eyes still focused on the game.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Louis says as Niall simply shrugs his shoulders. 

It’s an hour until they’ve got a party to go to at Ed’s he and Niall walk down toward his flat. They’ve only been to Ed’s a handful of times as they follow the directions he’d given Niall, his writing and little map drawn out across the back of a receipt for pizza. 

“Fucking freezing,” Niall comments, shivering under his coat as Louis smirks.

“I offered you my heated underwear…” he says as Niall shoves him lightly.

“Fuck off. Like I’d go near your heated underwear, it’s fucking fowl,” he replies.

Louis snorts, the two walking until they reach Ed’s flat. There’s some lights on, people getting in the door as they push inside. It’s warmer, shedding their coats and hanging them with the already rather large number there as Louis runs his hands along his arms. “I’ll get us some pints,” Niall says immediately, making his way into the kitchen as Louis glances into the living room.

Ed’s there, talking to someone as Louis pauses. They’ve got long, curly hair and — oh.

“Louis!” Harry says, voice bright and waving toward him as Ed glances between the two of them, confused.

“You two know each other?” Ed asks as Louis smiles faintly.

“I forced her to watch a horror movie. She absolutely hated it,” Louis says as Harry rolls her eyes.

“Bloody awful. I’m never doing it again,” Harry comments and it’s Ed’s turn to laugh now in response.

Niall returns with drinks as they talk to Ed for a little while. And it’s nice, people filtering throughout the different rooms as Harry stays close to his side, though it’s not like Louis is particularly against that. She’s warm, constant, her hand occasionally pressing against his wrist with noticeable pressure every so often; as if reminding him that she’s still there.

It’s not long until Louis needs another drink, excusing himself into the kitchen as he starts to look for something that isn’t half finished or already opened. “Are you avoiding me?” Harry’s voice comes from across the counter as Louis looks up toward her.

“What — no, Harry —” Louis begins, slightly flustered as he shakes his head, “God, no I just, I didn’t get your number and I never go to class —”

“You’re right about that. You still haven’t come once,” Harry says in agreement.

“That has no reflection of us. Or, you, I guess,” Louis says, “I always have an alarm set for seven I just never actually get up.”

Harry narrows her eyes, as if trying to find a lie in his words as she makes her way around the counter. Her hair is curlier than he remembers, deciding to be a little bold as he reaches out, as he takes one of them, twisting it between his fingers. She doesn’t say anything, instead smiles just a little in response, her dimples pressing into her cheeks when she does.

“That’s better,” Louis says, bringing his free hand to tilt her chin up to look at him now, “it’s good to see you, Harry.”

“Shut up,” Harry says, her smile widening as she talks now, “and just kiss me for fucks sake.”

So he leans forward, nose brushing against her own and her curl now abandoned from his fingers as he instead threads them through her hair and presses his lips against her own gently. Her lips are soft and pliant, tasting like beer and a little bit of raspberry and he wonders why on earth he hasn’t done this long time ago, his brain now a haze as he runs a gentle thumb along her jawline. Harry presses back, a little more demanding but Louis doesn’t mind one bit as he instead gently bites down on her lower lip as she laughs into his mouth, pulling at his waist and tugging him closer too which Louis easily complies.

“Goldilocks and Farrah would not approve of this,” Harry says softly, leaning her forehead against Louis’ own when they've finally pulled apart.

“Fuck them,” Louis replies and before Harry can protest he kisses her again, her laugh caught somewhere between his lips and her mouth.


End file.
